


I'm a Work in Progress

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Caning, Cock Warming, Coming Untouched, Developing Relationship, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub Play, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, For Part Two, Implied Relationships, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paddling, Pining, Smut, Sub Dean, Subspace, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, Team Dean's Red Ass, Trust Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-16 15:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12345330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Part OneSquare Filled: PaddlingDean had taken some time off from the sub-lifestyle because of a bad experience (but everyone has those, right?) except now he’s ready to dip his toes in again.  Castiel was...not what he’d expected.  At all.  The dom was a damn surprise, a fucking gift, and he doesn't want Dean for a sub, alone.  Castiel wanted to help fix him.  Oh, then there's Cas’ style in bed—that'sa thing of beauty.Part TwoSquare Filled: CaningDean and Castiel have settled into the relationship of their dreams—adorable, loving boyfriends by day, then turning up the heat with dom and sub scenes at night.  Whenever Dean’s been a good boy, Cas will let him go into the playroom and pick out whatever toy he wants.  With an entire weekend to themselves, they’re finally allowed to get a little rough.





	1. Paddling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Paddling
> 
> Thanks go to [Fishie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_about_the_fish/pseuds/what_about_the_fish/works) for the beta read! Love you, my dear!
> 
> **Ann's Notes:** While there are two parts to the fic, either can be read as a standalone :)

Dean’s breath felt more like a shudder than an inhale as he walked up the porch to Castiel’s house.  This whole situation was new, exciting and while he was freaking _thrilled_ to have a new dom in his life…he was also nervous.  After the way his last relationship ended, how could he not be?

He’d done what he had to do—Dean waited it out, made sure he was feeling confident and found someone who clicked.  Turned out, the moment Dean laid eyes on this sexy dude his dick thought they clicked, and it wasn’t until they began chatting he found out they worked just as well on paper.  Dean was nothing short of ecstatic!

The best part was, that when he’d…alluded to a previous end to a relationship being rough on him, Castiel made the choice they’d begin slower than normal.

While, duh, Dean didn’t want to be treated like a fragile doll (he kept hearing his therapist in his head) it was probably for the best.

He rapped his knuckles against the door loud enough the knock was sure to be heard from anywhere in the house, and then he jammed his hands into his pockets.  Less than a minute later, Castiel was opening the door with a smile and a warm, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I had to shower after work.  Trust me, you wouldn’t want to smell me after I finish my shift,” Dean chuckled and was surprised when he followed the man into the kitchen.  There was a full-fledged meal sitting before them, and Cas pulled out a chair.  Stumbling over his words, Dean tried to piece them together as he mirror Cas (who was clearly waiting for him) and they both took a seat, “Uh, you want me to…eat _with_ you?  I can kneel, I can—”

“You said it yourself, you had a long day at work,” Cas mused and there was a glint in his eye as he began digging around with his fork for toppings to add to the chunk of iceberg lettuce.  “We’re just getting started, Dean.  I’d like to know more about you, too.  Please—eat.  Maybe we can play a little later tonight.  But for now…”

Oh, yes.  There was _definitely_ an order in his tone that told Dean that this could be a test.  He picked up the tuna melt and took a big bite, feeling Cas’ gaze casually flickering between him and his own meal until Dean was finished.  He could…kinda...poke at the salad.  Although avocados and eggs weren’t really Dean’s favorite toppings…a bed of lettuce and rabbit food not his first choice…but he wouldn’t turn down a gift of a meal from his new dom, right?

“How was it?” Cas wondered aloud, then added, “You’re skinnier than your profile picture at the club, you know.”

For safety reasons (to make sure things like what happened to Dean didn’t happen again) the BDSM club they frequented strongly suggested that their regulars created a confidential profile to keep on record.  Background checks, specific kinks they were drawn to during the theme nights at the club, as well as potential triggers were logged.  It wasn’t meant as an invasion of privacy, both parties entering into a relationship felt safer with _someone_ holding the other accountable, someone of authority watching their back.

Plus, it had been the club that suggested Dean and Castiel met up in the first place, the owner knowing both men personally.

“Is this you tryin’ to fatten me up?”  Dean couldn’t help the quip or pointing the fork at him.  “Times have just…been a little rough lately.  Part of the reason I wanted to get back into the scene.  Try and get out of my head.”

“I certainly can help you with that.”  He stood up and took their plates, along with Dean’s entire salad.  Castiel could easily read his body language and knew the greens were a no-go and dumped them into the trash—but the next thing that hit Dean’s nostrils was _Heaven_.  It came out of the oven for dessert—and it was pie!  Cas said to himself, “We’ll let that cool down…” and set it on the stove top, not knowing that Dean was attempting to keep the drool _inside_ his mouth.

As Castiel approached the table again and sat, he folded his arms up on the wood.  Those damn gorgeous baby blues sucked Dean in and he couldn’t escape them even if he tried.  And, fucking hell, he couldn’t help but want to see them filled to the brim with lust…he needed to stop that!  Ah—coming here, expecting sex or something right away, and getting dinner instead had thrown him off his game!  Or his dick.  Or _something_ …and Dean was struggling, attempting not to embarrass himself.

Cas grinned when he noticed Dean was hot under the collar and fidgeting, Dean could tell he loved every second of it!  “As I said, I can help you with that, of course.  But I need to know what’s going on.  Just a vague idea will do, Dean.  Depending on what kind of rough situation you’re going through, will determine, well—how rough or not my _approach_ could be.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Dean perked up at the lewd hint, because the more he watched Cas, the more he craved him.

Those deft hands, long fingers, pink and kissable lips, the way he demanded authority even from something as simple as eating.  There was _also_ the fact it didn’t look like he’d really gotten out of his work clothes, seeing as how while the jacket was gone, he was still in his slacks and white button up.  The tie seemed to hang just a bit looser around his neck.  If Dean was granted even a bit of control, he would grab hold of that tie and—

Shit, Dean had been so caught up gawking, he forgot there was a prompt!  Depending on his answer, there was pie _and_ the possibility of getting out of said mind, both of which were so damn important right now.  While he didn’t talk about feelings, let alone open up, Cas gave him the option of being vague and well, Dean could probably handle that one.

“I’ve been working myself into the ground, for one.”  When the words left his mouth, Castiel looked unimpressed, like that wasn’t what he was looking for.  Dean blew through his lips and said, “Got some family tension.  Oh, then there’s the fact after shit went down with my last dom, I tried a regular relationship for a while.  It didn’t go very well.  She’s been trying to get us back together.”

“How do you feel about that?”  Cas’ voice was monotone, but his eyes glimmered with much more satisfaction at the answers.

Ruefully, Dean stated, “It ain’t happening.  Once a cheater, always a cheater.  Her, not me.  But it wasn’t just her that I left—the part that really hurt was losing her son.  Treated him like he was my own, you know?”  Castiel nodded along with the story.  “That’s when I started drinking.  A lot.  I know I gotta stop, hell, I drink way more than I even eat, probably why I looked fatter in the picture.”

“You don’t look fat, Dean Winchester, you look stunning.”  Castiel shot up to his feet and rounded the table.  He grabbed Dean’s chin and lifted his focus upward, so close to Cas that he went momentarily cross-eyed.  “Did you drink before you came here?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t even think about lying to me.”  There was a predatory timbre in Cas’ voice that made him actually shrink backwards.  So many times, Dean would have to pretend, but not now, he couldn’t.

“Yeah…some.  I always have a drink after work and I was nervous,” Dean chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if this was the make it or break it thing.

It was just a rough patch, he’d work through it!  Jesus, Dean hadn’t intended to spill his guts, but _thank God_ he wasn’t pressed to talk about Sammy...yeah, Dean had dodged a bullet there.  But he was still waiting on Cas as he deliberated slowly.

“Third door on the right.”  Cas’ tone was beginning to show signs of life, and by that, Dean meant arousal (hallelujah!).  Everything went downhill from there when he said, “Bring me my paddle.  I need to teach you a lesson about your visits.  Specifically, sobriety.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean ducked his head and followed Cas’ directions moving down the unknown hallway.

Anticipation sunk into his bones and his hard-on was now full-mast.  Dean was fully expecting a guest bedroom or office when he opened the door, with maybe a few props lying around.    
  
He was _so_ wrong.  When he opened the door and flicked the light switch on, he realized that this entire space was a playroom!  Intrigue got the best of him and he began to look through boxes of all shapes and sizes.

Holy hell, now Dean’s cock was _pulsing_.  There were dildos in all shapes and sizes, vibrators for days, cock rings, plugs, ropes, beads, some toys Dean had never even seen before—he knew Cas wanted him to make the journey in here by himself for this very reaction.  Maybe also to give Dean a teasing preview of what was to come.  Fuck, it could be _him_ , at any second, because he was rock-hard and aching in his pants—

Yep, Castiel definitely wanted him to check out all the merchandise, but then Dean remembered—the paddle!

In this awesome room, there was actually a couple to choose from.  Dean didn’t have to play enie-meanie-minie-mo—he grabbed the firmest one, the paddle that would leave his backside completely raw.  Dean _would_ remember tonight and be sure not to renege on his promise.  Plus, it had been so long since he was able to let go, Dean figured why not go big or go home?

When he matched back out, Castiel was leaning against the door frame to the living room, and glanced down to the tent in Dean’s pants.  “I see someone liked what they found?”

“Y-yeah.”  Dean didn’t trust his own voice, so he handed the paddle over.  “It was, uh, impressive.”

“You’re quite impressive, going for this one—surely she'll make a dent.” Cas traced his fingers along the outline, before he ordered Dean, “Drop your pants.  Hands against the wall by the couch.  Bend over, bad boys need spankings.”

He was embarrassed with how quickly he scrambled to follow Cas’ request, but, fuck, he needed some relief!   _Anything_ , his dick was red and angry, begging for touch, but Dean knew that kind of pleasure was out of the question—

“Yes.”  Dean jumped when Castiel ran his fingertips down his spine and to the side of his flank, “We’ll get you healthy and happy again, Dean.  Don’t worry.  I’ll take care of you, I’ll take care of everything—” his hand swatted across Dean’s rear as a prelude, “But first, manners.”

Dean’s arms were quivering as he waited, agreeing, “Yes, sir.”

“Do you want to count for me?”

Dean wished he could see Castiel’s face, because he sounded downright devilish.  Before he could respond, a hard stinging pain roared to life right under his ass cheek.  It had Dean shouting out, “One!” in a choked moaned.

“Very good,” Cas purred at the same time Dean gasped out, “Two—”

After a few more solid, well-placed strikes with the paddle, Dean wasn’t sure he was even counting aloud anymore.  He hoped he was—he was moving his mouth—but everything seemed so wonderfully disjointed.  His red and borderline numb ass was an afterthought as he sighed and writhed, needing release so bad it was maddening!

He couldn’t risk another punishment, if it extended into tomorrow.  No way he could be fixing cars and slinging booze with his raw, hopefully-not-broken hide.  

Oh, but that release he was talking about?  It was _so_ close—Dean had totally picked the right paddle, because he didn’t think any of the small, breakable ones would have allowed him to escape like this.  Allow Cas to strike his ass like this.  Then lead him to his orgasm.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re moaning like a whore,” Castiel mused, and then asked full of wonder, “Are you going to cum for me, Dean?”

But it was too late, Dean was already blowing his load all over Cas’ wall and his floor—fuck!  He was totally going to get—

Except, when his knees completely buckled and failed him, Castiel was there to catch him.  Not _only_ catch him, he went the extra mile Dean couldn’t have prepared for.  He all but carried and dragged Dean into his bed, found a thin, worn kind-of-ratty pair of boxers to cloth him in and then draped ice packs over all the places he’d nailed.  He went even further to surprise him, too.

“Give me that woman’s cell phone number, Dean.  The one who’s been harassing you.  I meant what I said about taking care of you.”  That calm, gentle voice made him want to believe it.  “I don’t want you to have to soothe yourself at the bottom of a bottle.  Call it petty selfishness, but I want to be the only one.  I refuse to share you, even with circumstance.”

Dean smiled a little then grunted something illegible before finding the words, “Phone was in my pants.  Left it out there.  Password’s 8470 and her name is Li-Lisa.  Sure she’s still blowing up my recent texts.”

Dean could barely finish his sentence before the man was on the move, but it gave him a second to think about what just happened.  He recalled everything freaking awesome from the beginning to the end of this encounter, because _was_ this the end?    
  
Neither of them had discussed Dean staying the night —in the past, it was always assumed, a _given_ , that Dean would take off after a scene.  No matter what shape he was in, right now, this was pretty mild on the scale of what he’d gone through and shuffled off with, to be honest.

When Castiel waltzed back in, his face was lit up by the dim glow of his _own_ phone.  Huh—he was kind of impressed.  Dean would have thought that Cas would’ve harassed her and ruined the relationship for good as Dean on Dean’s phone.  But he’d taken matter into his own hands, literally.

“It’s late, she’s probably sleeping,” Castiel pointed out, heading to his chest of drawers, “It’ll be interesting to see what her response is in the morning.”

Dean was both moving to sit up, because that was probably his cue, and trying to check Castiel out all at once.  Except, the second Castiel heard one of the ice packs drop, he rushed over and eased Dean back down and— _hello, gorgeous_ —Cas was only in his boxers now, too.  Dean’s mouth went completely dry.

“What are you doing?” Cas admonished him lightly, “it’s important to keep swelling to a minimum,” and grabbed the errant pack, setting it back on the very top of Dean’s thighs.

“I, uh,” Dean used the pillow for support and scrunched it up so he could lean up a little without disrupting the amazing cooling sensation on his ass.  “You saying it’s getting late.  I took that as my hint to exit.”

“No.”  His voice was firm, and then…he did something that surprised the fuck out of Dean.

It also made his stomach do flip-flops and his heart race.

Castiel…kissed him?

Like, just leaned in and took his damn breath away—something that his previous doms had never done once in their entire relationship.  That was one of the horrible things that ended it—Dean was so touch-starved and affection starved with the complete lack of chances to see other people.  Unless he wanted serious, damaging repercussions because of their blind possessive ‘claim’ over him.  

Oh, holy shit, Cas tasted amazing.  It didn’t stop at brief and chaste though.  He continued and traced the line of Dean’s lips with his tongue, his jaw fell open, gaping in almost-shock.  Castiel didn’t mind, he continued to lick into Dean's mouth, really getting a taste for him, and Dean got a feeling (he was prideful, alright?!) that Cas…couldn’t get enough.

Finally, a kiss to Dean’s forehead allowed him to catch his breath.

“Regardless of what I may say during scenes, I’m _not_ going to kick you out like a cheap whore.  I don’t know if I made my standpoint clear.”  Dean was feeling downright distracted and enchanted when Cas made the choice to wear the boxers, and boxers alone, to sleep and crawled into bed next to Dean.  Castiel made himself comfortable—he was laying on his side to face Dean—Cas’ hand rose to cup Dean’s cheek when he said, “When I dom, I don’t simply dom.  I have a very, well…let’s call it an intense range of emotions.  One of which is monogamy.”

Cas laughed at himself and said, “I wish to have my sub in all aspects of my life.  As my girlfriend or boyfriend, as a support system, and I’ll give them a support system.  And, naturally, I’ll continue with much, much more of what I showed you today.”  He tilted his head and, fuck, Dean’s cock was twitching valiantly against the mattress.

“That’s freaking awesome and…I really like that idea,” Dean was nervous, but in the hopeful, too-good-to-be-true kind of way.  “Do you cuddle?”

Suddenly, Castiel’s eyes doubled, he ripped back the covers and jumped out of bed.  Dean wanted to kick himself!  Was that the magic hands-off, break the glass and push the red button, or something?  Of course, he’d say something to fuck it all up!  Of course, this would have to come up, they were in bed, even though he had _formally_ been nearly sodomized with that damn paddle!

Once again, though…Castiel surprised the hell out of him.

He strolled back into the room carrying a few balanced items and walked right to the bedside table.  Once he flipped those lights on, Dean’s suspicions were confirmed, and hell yeah, this kept getting better!  He grappled for both the pie and Cas, who wore a thoroughly happy and contented smile on his face.  The first bite of pie?  Holy fuck—

“Oh my gawwwd,” Dean paused, covered his mouth and reminded himself to chew.  “Are you an angel?”

“You’re quite happy with small gestures, aren’t you?” Cas noted, eating his smaller sliver at a much slower rate.  “It’s disappointing that we get a rap because of people like your previous dom.  Or maybe I am an anomaly.  Either way, I have a fierce protective instinct, and it encompassed you as a person, Dean.  Make no mistake, I want all of you.  Is that alright?”

“Mm, keep making me pies like this?  I’ll give ya anything ya want,” Dean winked cheekily, finishing the pie in the blink of an eye.

Cas grinned widely, “That’s very, very good to know.  Now, let me put our dishes away and you’ll get your cuddling.”

As Cas went to grab his plate, Dean’s grip strength was stronger, and it piqued the other man's curiosity.  He strategically used the plate to tug Cas around, until their lips collided once more.  It was a little inappropriate, given the enthusiastic moan and filthy whisper, but Dean didn’t really care.

Although, Castiel eventually managed to pull away, his laughter was bright, no matter how difficult it was to leave Dean‘s mouth.  “You are going to give me a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”

“Maybe…” the grin on Dean’s face told it all.

“Perhaps I’ll have pie ready for a job well done.  And an ass beating on the opposite note.  But I’ll never, ever push you past your limits—I promise.  I believe we jumped in at a good point.”

You know what?  Dean actually couldn’t agree more.  “The best point.  I’ll be waiting in here.  I’m gonna cuddle you so hard.”

“I can think of other things that are quite hard right now.” Castiel shot him a glance, chin tilted down, both eyebrows raised with that predatory expression.  “Morning.  I believe we’d both enjoy a round two in the morning.  When your body is teeming with sexual energy and you can no longer hold back, like the good _boyfriend_ I know you can be.  Since it's a Saturday, we may even be able to do a scene a bit later.”

“Damn.”  Dean clucked his tongue.  “Okay, go, so you can come back!”

“Never heard that one before,” Castiel admitted.  “I’ve got a feeling this is just the beginning.”

A wiggle of eyebrows was the answer and Castiel's hurried footsteps told Dean he had taken his advice to heart.  Plus, the idea of a dom who cuddled?  Dean was pretty damn sure he couldn't find a better combination out there—as Cas said, it was just the beginning.  Fuck, was he excited!


	2. Caning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo  
> Square Filled: Caning
> 
> Summary: Dean and Castiel have settled into the relationship of their dreams—adorable, loving boyfriends by day, then turning up the heat with dom and sub scenes at night. Whenever Dean’s been a good boy, Cas will let him go into the playroom and pick out whatever toy he wants. With an entire weekend to themselves, they’re finally allowed to get a little rough.
> 
> Tags for Chapter: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, BSDM, Dom/sub play, Dom Cas, Sub Dean, Trust Kink, Smut, Cock Warming, Caning, Subspace, Coming Untouched, Aftercare, Fluff and Feels, Fluffy Ending
> 
> Love goes out to [whataboutthefish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_about_the_fish/pseuds/what_about_the_fish/works) for the beta read!

Every single time that Dean had a dom, it was limited to the bedroom and then they kicked his ass to the curb when they were finished.  Being with Castiel?  It couldn’t be more perfect.

The fact that being monogamous was probably the highest item on Cas’ list of rules made them boyfriends around the clock, and they could scene whenever they wished and had time.  But it wasn’t fake-boyfriends out of jealousy, hell no, they were real as could be.  Then when the tabled turned—that playroom of Cas’?  Dean had a fucking _fantastic_ time breaking it in…

In the afternoon, they’d hold hands and go out to lunch.

At night, Cas would watch TV with his cock in Dean’s mouth until he praised him for a job well done and allowed him to have his pick of toys he was dying to play with for the night.  He hadn’t even made a dent, there were so many!  And they’d been together for…what?    
  
Eight months?  Wow— _well_ over half a year.  It was the healthiest relationship Dean had ever been in, he didn’t even know these kinds existed!

From their first night together, the promise Cas had made about taking care of Dean, he had fulfilled.  Getting Lisa off Dean’s back was a text, turned brutal phone call and she never reached out again.  He couldn’t lie, Dean was teeming with pride over how badass his boyfriend was.

That was the easy part…the whole ‘you’re too skinny’ thing, because he wasn’t eating and then drinking his weight in liquor?  God, was _that_ a struggle.  Castiel hadn’t been in such a position himself before, but he tried to understand, knowing that being an alcoholic wasn’t something that you could simply wake up one morning and stop.    
  
An addiction was an addiction was a friggin addiction.

There were times where Dean stumbled and fell, but Cas was there to pick him up.  He was there to get him out of his head, to let go and just…be, letting his dom do his thing.

And ‘Cas’ Thing?’  Jesus, Dean had never been with a more brilliant dom.

Everything seemed effortless, Castiel’s control was bar none, his strength (mental and physical) would always hold out until he led Dean to where he needed to be, or literally manhandled him as he needed to be, too.  The best part was that the intense scenes, when sub drop was inevitable?  For the first time in all his experiences, Dean wasn’t alone to deal with it, feeling like he was going insane.

Cas always made sure that he spent the night after _any_ type of play (actually…they were in talks of moving in together right now) but his dom had all of these aftercare rituals, making the transition as painless as possible.  Jesus.  Cas was just…perfect.  So fucking perfect.  Dean had no idea what he did to deserve him.

No!  Dean wasn’t allowed to put thoughts like that into his head, he promised Cas that he wouldn’t.  Especially when Cas found out about the nature of his previous…situation, the way that it was handled, the way that it ended, they’d basically made a pact.  If Dean thought about it or was feeling down on himself, he’d tell Cas, and Cas would fix it—just like he always did.

If Dean’s self-worth issues popped up when he was alone…he had to ignore them and fight them off.  He had to have a more _active_ role instead of letting them eat him alive.  Since, in the past, that was around the time he picked up a fifth of whiskey and started downing it to cope.    
  
All the work would be for nothing if Dean hit the bottle.  Both his therapist and Cas were proud of his gumption and fight, hell, this therapist was actually stoked about Cas in general.

There had been times…a few, actually, where he nearly broke.  But all it took was a call to Cas, he'd drop everything, rush right over to calm Dean down and pull him away from the ledge.  On those nights, they’d actually make love.

That was the unique _and_ interesting part of it all.  The boyfriends who started dating by matching in the BDSM world.  Yet, both were equal forces that somehow became equally important in their relationship.  Dean hadn’t thought they would get this far, but Cas’ optimism was vibrant and steadfast.  It was one of the countless things he loved about him…

But they hadn’t said that.  The ‘L’ word.  Even though it was _obvious_ , hell, they were probably going to be living together soon!  Dean didn’t know what was holding who back and why…was it on him?  Or, Dean figured, that should be a dom’s job…whatever.  He didn’t fucking know!

Tonight was a Friday.  Dean had requested the weekend off from the Roadhouse, which meant they could go hard and have fun the _entire_ span of those couple days.  

When he’d told Castiel, he’d been met with a wicked grin and the sight of wheels turning right away.

So here Dean was.  Naked.  On the floor, per usual, with Cas’ cock in his mouth.

Dean had to constantly swallow down the saliva, and he wasn’t sure if the motion was the thing getting Cas hard or it was something coming up.  But the next thing Dean knew, fingers were running through his hair and it felt so nice…except, _was_ this the transition and Dean's cue to turn this into a blowjob?

When he sucked down just a little, testing the waters, Cas used his grip on Dean’s hair to haul him backwards, now sitting straight up.  “You’re so good, Dean.  That hot mouth wrapped around my cock, it’s like you were made for it.”  He traced Dean’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Do you want to go grab something out in the playroom?”

“Yes, sir,” it was so damn fast it sounded like one syllable, except when he went to stand, Cas hauled him down to straddle his hips.  Oh shit, was he too overeager?

Castiel shamelessly grabbed both of Dean’s ass cheeks from behind and watched him writhe, watched his eyes glaze over with lust as a finger tip brushed against his hole.  God, being naked like this was usually liberating and kind of fun to put on a show for the man you lo… _care about._  But right now he was hard, pulsing and vulnerable.

At least, when he glanced down at Cas’ cock, from where he’d been unzipped from his jeans and Dean’s mouth had been, was just as erect as he was.  Fuck!  He wished they were in boyfriend-mode, it would be so easy to tilt forward, circle a hand around both of them to get Cas nice and riled up, then he could fuck Dean stupid on the couch.

Instead, that insane self-control kicked in when he told Dean, “Remember, my gorgeous little slut, we’ve all weekend for you to recuperate.”  Damn, if that wasn’t a devilish smirk, “Don’t hold back if you want to play hard.”  With a firm tap on the ass, Dean backed up slowly and noticed how Cas continued to watch him with hunger.

It went straight to his dick, being wanted and coveted so badly by this man, shit, it was so fucking mind-blowing.  Dean wouldn’t let him down.

As he opened the door to the playroom and flipped on the light, he took a deep breath and let his imagination run wild.  Dean especially noted the ropes still lying out from where they’d done a scene in here a few days ago.  While Cas didn’t come out and say they were doing any kind of pain play, he knew that it would be rough.  They both liked it rough—but what would be taking it up another level?

Dean’s eyes scanned through the shelves, the boxes, wondering if one of these insanely-massive dildos would do the trick.  Yet, he didn’t want that.  He wanted _Cas’_ cock, not to be freakin’ blown open, basically fisted with a piece of silicone.  He continued to glance around, and that’s when he saw it.

Oh—this was fucking perfect!

Dean had eyed it before, wondering when the right time would be, because of the intensity of the scene—right now?  It was all but _begging_ to be used, calling his name.  Like Cas had said, they had all weekend.  With it in his hand, he traipsed out of the playroom and looked out into the living room, only to hear, “Bedroom, Dean,” and changed his direction.

This would be awesome!

\----------------------------

Castiel was constantly surprised by the items Dean brought back when he sent him to select something for the evening.  He’d never allowed a sub to do so in the past, but after the moment Dean had picked out that paddle—the harshest one Castiel had in his collection—he knew that this one would keep him on his toes.

He just hadn’t anticipated it would follow to all walks of life.  God, Castiel had gotten so lucky, Dean was truly magnificent—something miraculously special.  They’d worked through some struggles but came out stronger on the other side, and Cas was honestly in the mindset of…maybe, just maybe, Dean was the one.

The idea of a weekend together, no shifts at the bar for Dean, was thrilling.  That concept alone was what had gotten Cas hard before he had Dean pull off his cock.  Thinking about all the things they could do that they never had time, or enough consecutive days for.  Right now, the sky was the limit, and he couldn’t wait to see what Dean returned with.

The sound of the door closed, and he could hear footsteps going in the wrong direction, so he called out, “Bedroom, Dean!” and he turned on a dime.

Castiel had the lights dimmed because he loved to watch the things he did to his sub, the way he made Dean feel, that _exact_ moment when he let go…  
  
When they weren’t playing, when it was a night together as boyfriends, they usually had the lights off.  It was a different kind of excitement—feeling every inch of one another's skin on an even playing field.  All delicious exploring with their hands and mouths.  Not tonight.

He hadn’t taken off more than his shirt by the time Dean came into the room, looking stunning as always.  He was already sweating a little, a flush spread on his cheeks that highlighted the freckles on his face that Castiel adored.  Oh, Dean was eager—his cock wasn’t just hard, he was leaking precum and holding something behind his back.

“You’re on your best behavior tonight,” Castiel noted and closed in, grabbing Dean’s cock and smearing the wetness over the head and down the shaft.  As Dean gasped, Cas commended, “You haven’t even touched yourself.  I believe you deserve a reward.”  He couldn’t help it—his sub was too tempting and he had to steal a fierce, needy kiss.

When they broke away, Cas asked, “Now, what would you like?  What do you have for me behind your back?”

Wordlessly, Dean raised an eyebrow and presented Castiel with a cane.

Alright, this time he was _stunned_.  He could barely take it into his own hands, away from Dean because… “Are you sure?” Cas stayed in character, haughtily asking, “Are you for _certain_ your pretty little body can handle this, Dean?”

Dean was wearing a smile of his own, when he confirmed, “Yes, sir.  As you said, I have all weekend to recuperate.”

While Castiel never would have picked this out himself, Dean looked absolutely taken—if there was one thing that he trusted Dean with, it was what his body could and could not handle.  One of the reasons they’d worked so well was because of their foundation of trust, even if it was in weak moments, Dean had always been forthcoming with him.

“On all fours, edge of the bed,” Castiel ordered.

There was a half-second of relief that flashed on Dean’s face that quickly transformed into heady arousal.  As if he thought Cas would deny him—but how could he ever do that?  Cas never could say no, nor ever would.  Dean had him wrapped around his little finger.

Dean was in the ideal position, as Castiel took a moment to feel out the weight of the cane, the length and impression of it within his grip.  There wasn’t much of anything when it came to padding, but there _was_ a little give.  It had ended up in Cas’ collection, after all, so it wasn’t completely inhumane.  Although, he hadn’t used it before, but Dean had wanted it...    
  
Castiel bounced it from the balance point, out towards the edges and the first test was the bottom of Dean’s foot.  It cause a bark of surprise and the curl of toes, but Cas was getting used to the feeling.  He also knew that it should truly only be _forcefully_ used with the feet and hand—but that was _not_ what Dean was going for…

Quickly, with a bit more vigor, Cas struck the other foot, Dean’s, “Ouch!” audible.

“Are you in over your head?” he wondered aloud, giving Dean one more opportunity to back out.

“No,” he urged, “I’m just not used to…you smacking my feet.  There are better things, you know?”  He stammered to add on, “Sir,” because he realized he was openly complaining.  Being quite a brat.

“It’s true,” Castiel couldn’t help but grab Dean’ rear again, flawless and unmarred because after this?  It was be an entirely different story.  He wanted to visualize both, for as much as he loved the smoothness of his skin, the random freckled patterns…Castiel _also_ enjoyed leaving his mark.  Knowing that everything tainting Dean’s beautiful skin, was from Cas, because Dean willingly gave himself away, always begging for him.

His sub was tense, his back almost arched like a cat as he waited.  Cas needed him to relax, so he let the cool, yet rough material of the cane glide along Dean’s ass, sliding it along the surface so he wasn’t anticipating the first impact.  Just when he sighed in relief—

That was the moment Castiel drew back with a practiced speed and slapped the hard, unforgiving stick against Dean’s upper thighs.

It wasn’t a particularly hard strike at all, but it caused Dean to gasp and fold his hands into fists.  “Would you like to count?” Castiel asked, not to torture or mock him, but because he knew when to stop when Dean counted aloud.  When Cas could clearly hear that shift in Dean’s quaking voice, whether it was that far-off dreamy sensation, or too much.  It was better than a safe word and less of a buzz kill.

Dean nodded his head and cleared his throat, “One.”

“Good,” Castiel purred and wound up again but took his time.  The next two were of the same intensity as the first, but the red welts crept further up Dean’s rear, horizontal lines left in their wake.

He’d rather go a little slow than break his boyfriend right away, and Dean sounded fine, his voice lust-wrecked on, “Six!” with his back rolling, demanding more.

“You’re so lovely, Dean, so desperate.  I think we can kick things up a notch,” Castiel decided, and right before he landed the next blow, Dean’s focus jerked over his shoulder to look at his dom with wide eyes.  They were so dark, pupils dilated and he was ready.

This time, Castiel didn’t follow a pattern.  The lashes were erratic, Dean had no idea where the next one would land, but one thing was for sure.  He wasn’t whimpering softly and calmly saying the numbers anymore—he was screaming them out.  

The way Dean moved, it was a hybrid of elegant and wanton seduction and whenever they were in a situation like this, Cas just wanted to throw away what was in his hand and fuck right into his boyfriend.  He couldn’t help it, Dean was spread, ready for the taking…he knew precisely what he was doing!  Dean was deliberately driving Cas _insane_ —why else would he be fucking backwards onto the brutal strikes?  Body pleading for more?  It was all for _show—_ for Cas.

As Dean cried out, “Thirteen!” Castiel decided to make the last ones count.  He wouldn’t beat his boyfriend senseless with this, but he surely would make it unforgettable.

The fifteenth crack drew a fine line of blood beading up to the surface of some abused, overused broken skin.  Castiel had anticipated that, and this wasn’t the first time either of them had gotten a little…dirty.  But, God, the patterns that instantly swelled and would no doubt bruise from his mid-thighs up, those had Cas licking his lips.  He was so fucking _starved_ for Dean.

The eighteen and nineteen broken skin, too, but that was when Dean’s voice totally transformed.  It was heady, dream-like and Cas threw in the final crack to make it to twenty.  Dean couldn’t even call it, he was caught up in subspace.  This was what Castiel lived for, making Dean let go of everything, making him feel good and leaving his troubles behind…

Cas realized that he hadn’t even noticed between the amount of shouting and his own brewing temptation, Dean had cum all over the sheets.  The only reason Castiel finally knew, was because he was trying to lay him into a more comfortable position while his sub was coming down.  There was a mess he needed to avoid.  That, a physical reminder of Dean's pleasure, made him smile too.

Dean was clutching the pillow and wiggling when Castiel returned with simple first aid gear.  It attested to how far gone Dean truly was when he didn’t even flinch as Cas sanitized his skin, which normally would hurt an open wound like a bitch.  Then again, maybe his rear was numb?  Fuck, Cas hoped in the moment he didn’t do any nerve damage or something.

Logically, he _knew_ that he hadn’t, but he cared so damn much, sometimes his brain decided to jump to the nuclear option.  He snorted at his silly inner monologue, and went about figuring if any of the bleeding digs were deep.  As Cas ran his gloved finger across them, he soon found out that all of them just cracked the very top layer of skin, and with some sleep and Neosporin, there’d be no worry in the morning.  They were the definition of superficial.

Now, Castiel could actually admire his handy work.  The crosshatches of different red and pinks blooming against Dean’s skin, three particular marks that had an exquisite ice-blue shade, and they were in the process of forming bruises already.

Castiel wouldn’t interrupt Dean if he fell asleep right after subspace, but this was prime subdrop material.  Cas wanted to know how his boyfriend was feeling, what his pain level was like.  Obviously he’d enjoyed himself (Cas was wearing a very proud smirk at that) but he needed to figure out exactly what to plan for next.

In the meantime, he set the ice packs back on Dean’s rear, something they hadn’t needed to do in a _damn_ long time—it was an interesting kind of déjà vu.  Castiel wasn’t going to sleep, not until Dean checked in with him.  He had orange juice in a cup in the fridge, he had another set of ice packs when these ones thawed.  Cas had even set out Epsom salts by the bathtub, so Dean could enjoy a hot, relaxing bath if he wanted to.

Cas figured (or hoped) that he’d covered all his bases…now, time would tell.

\---------------------------

Woah, Dean hadn’t been that high in a damn long time.  His eyes were still closed, and he was feeling the remnants of dizziness.  He remembered everything, he even remembered Cas taking care of him, even though it looked like he was KO’d.  Maybe he was?  Nah, that subspace was just so intense, he lingered within it like crazy.

Being on his stomach was nothing new, in multiple situations—Dean thought sarcastically—but being covered in ice packs and listening to Cas speaking in hushed tones, it made him wonder.  Was the cane too much?  It hadn’t been...at _first_.  That’s what he’d thought they were working with, Dean thought they’d be good to go!

Until Cas picked up the pace.   _Twice_.  Ho-ly fuck!  The unintentional severity the absolute, all encompassing light-up-your-insides throbbing sting, the wounds that kept on coming, they burned outward and consumed his whole body—

Except when Dean was swept up and lost count of the strikes?  He lost focus of, well, everything.  It felt like a total out of body experience.  Like he was above his crouched position, still reeling and trying to seduce his dom, per usual, but feeling no pain and _everything_ was _pleasure_.  It felt so fucking amazing, Dean had no idea if he came, being caught inside the adrenaline junkie’s favorite spot to hide.

Had his orgasm triggered this letting go?  Had it happened in the middle, prolonging it?  Or, was he thoroughly spent, cumming hard when he was coming down, and that was what nearly knocked him out—into a fast sleep?

All while Cas was doting on him, hand and foot.  Without getting off.

See, that was one of the things that blew Dean’s mind!  His boyfriend would stop, drop _everything_ to take care of Dean’s every need, every whim.  Cas could have just as easily spread him open (they had sex so much Dean never needed prep) grab the lube that was literally a reach away and claim him in another way, too.  Of _course_ , Dean would want it!  He’d want Cas to have it!

Still, Cas never put himself first, and Dean sighed out, “God, I love you.”

Oh shit.  Fuck!

And that would be what he’d been freaking out about this whole time.  And it just…slipped out...?  Like _that_?!

Dean was borderline mortified as he heard the bed shifting, and covers moving and now Castiel was laying down facing him.  “Hello, Dean.  Welcome back to Earth.  How are you feeling?”

He chewed his lip, wondering if Cas was gonna let it go, that would be fine by Dean right now!  Dear Lord, what an idiot, he was such a friggin idiot!

“Glad to be back,” he snorted, trying to keep his voice even.  “Feeling…rough.  Really rough.  But, dammit, was it worth it.  Holy fuck, Cas, you’re so good to me.”  Dean knew he probably looked like an fool because he couldn’t stop smiling.  He reached out to pull Cas closer and asked, “What’s the damage?”

“It’s not the worst, but it’s by no means mild—especially since the goal _wasn’t_ pain play,” Castiel explained, lacing their fingers together and kissing Dean’s forehead.  “I believe bruising will be the biggest factor.  Three strikes had managed to break skin, but it was from repeated targeting and I’m sure they’ll be scabbed over before morning, healed within a few days.  You have my word that, if you want it, I’ll wait on you,” he teased, because he knew damn well Dean wouldn’t go for that.

But before Dean could interject, Castiel silenced him with bold eye contact and a serious, “I’ll wait on you, I’ll take care of you because I love you, too.”

Yep.  Dean’s face was flushing scarlet and he bumbled out, “So we’re _not_ forgetting I said that, huh?”

“Why would I forget the best news of my life?” Castiel inquired with pure joy.  “I’ve felt it so long, but I was always afraid to voice it aloud.  I needed to make sure you were ready, because I refused, I absolutely _refused_ to ruin this.  To break us.  To lose you by scaring you away.”

“Huh,” Dean examined him, because out of all the reasons for Cas holding back, that wasn’t one of them.  “How long, then?”

Castiel shot him an unimpressed expression.  “Really, Dean?  You need to know the ‘gossip?’  I think the focus right now should be on us, and the fact that we’re…well, on the same page.  And it’s an astounding page.”  He reached out and played with the hair at the base of Dean’s neck, dammit, he would have nuzzled in close if he were a cat… “Have you decided yet?  About the move?”

“Yeah.”

With furrowed brows, Castiel appeared like he was waiting for more.  But that was it.

So Dean rolled his eyes dramatically and groaned, “Yeah, Cas.  The ‘yeah’ means I’m _gonna_.  You happy?”

“Oh.  Oh!”   It finally dawned on him, but so did the fact that Dean was being a little shit and he shook his head.  “You do find yourself here, in my bed, more nights than not.  It would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Hey, just because you don’t like my place—!”

“There are cockroaches, Dean,” Castiel stated drably, “and I understand they’re from your neighbors, but that apartment complex would be better off burnt to the ground.”

A hearty chuckle exploded from Dean’s chest, he avidly agreed, “Someone’s gonna light that sucker up.  If you read anything about it in the news… _you’re_ my alibi.  Deal?”

“Always,” Cas promised, but it was full of intent that meant much more.  He proved just how much intent with the wild, desperate kiss.

Dean’s arms lashed out to wrap around his boyfriend, holding him close as he licked inside his mouth.  Since, _damn_ , every time Cas started something, or showed a hint of interest, Dean melted—he was under his control.  No matter what his boyfriend did, it was a knee-jerk reaction.

Castiel was sucking a gaudy hickey against his neck, Dean was praying that it would fade (he wasn’t so sure, there are some crazy boundaries they were pushing tonight!) and Cas retreated to cup both of Dean’s cheeks and steal his focus.  “Please.  When you’re ready, when you want it again—will you let me make love to you?”

“You even gotta ask?” he couldn’t hide his wonder.  “That’s fair game, you can always, _always_ make love to me.  God, it sounds so cheesy, but I’m getting hard,” he blew out through his lips.

“Oh?”  There was a defiant raised eyebrow on Cas’ forehead paired with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Is this a euphemism?  Or are you really—”    
  
Cas hand had dove downward to confirm or deny Dean’s comment, and now he was wearing a deviant smirk.  “Yes, Dean.  It’s normal to become aroused over love.  It’s not cheesy in the least.  And you’re _quite_ hard.”

Fuck, with Cas’ hand wrapped around him, his breaths were coming out heavier and heavier, “Least that’s good news.  ‘Cause I love the fuck outta you,” Dean felt amazed that he could say the words aloud, finally, but when he moved just a little, he winced.  Shit, now there was something completely different that was a problem, he had to come to terms with _another_ cold, hard, truth.  “Um, I don’t wanna be a cockblock, Cas…but how the hell are we gonna make this work with my rear beaten raw and tanned?”

“You _greatly_ underestimate me,” he hinted playfully, still jerking Dean’s fully-erect dick with long pulls.  Shit, he couldn’t hold back the moans, but Cas’ words?  Goddamn, did he adore his sneaky, genius boyfriend!  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t know how, Dean.  I _will_ make love to you, over and over again—you’ll be screaming my name all night.”  He nipped Dean’s earlobe, the words and the sensation making him shudder, “And that’s what it’s like to be loved by me.”

“Fuck yes, Cas,” it was breathy, like a prayer, as their eyes locked for a second.  “Not just tonight.  All weekend,” Dean added on meaningfully, “Then every day you love me after.”

Cas looked ecstatic, kissed Dean‘s forehead and vowed, “Get ready for a wild ride.”


End file.
